


coloured in you

by sxndazed



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-22 04:17:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20868065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sxndazed/pseuds/sxndazed
Summary: In this moment, the morning is theirs, and everything feels right.





	coloured in you

He wakes up to an empty side of the bed.

The sheets are rustled, and they're cold. The humidity is higher than usual despite it being fall, but he feels himself shiver at the lack of heat that's usually next to him in the morning.

He rolls over onto the other side, his face planting itself straight into the pillow. He takes a deep breath. His lungs fill with the scent of the curly hair shampoo sitting in the shower and that lotion on the vanity he only uses in this apartment.

It smells like home even though they haven't been here together in a while.

He hears clattering outside their room and glances at the clock. It's several minutes after his alarm was supposed to go off, and he should be annoyed but he really can't bring himself to be. He hops out of bed and pulls on a shirt he grabs from one of the drawers before slipping into the bathroom.

He splashes his face with water and grabs a towel off the rack. The bright yellow catches his eye as his gaze shifts to the mirror, and he rolls his eyes in fondness. Of course he ends up grabbing one of the many shirts that are blue and yellow–he really can't avoid it anymore.

If he doesn't look too hard, he feels like nothing much has changed. He's standing in their bathroom in their apartment in New York. His hair is flopped over his forehead, and he's got on a Michigan shirt. The fabric stretches over his shoulders differently, and he has more stubble than he would have had a few years back, but if he doesn't look too hard, he doesn't feel like they've lost any time.

He hears the whistling of the kettle from the kitchen and knows that Darren is aware that he's awake. He steps out and grabs his glasses from the bedside table. He'll have time to shower and shave after breakfast.

He slides his feet into a pair of blue slippers because Darren insists that they use slippers around the house. Something about his mom having made him and Chuck wear them around the house and that Chris's feet are cold and "fucking need them man." They pad along the wooden floor as he makes his way into the kitchen.

He sees two plates of omelettes on the table with a thing of bread in the middle. Their mugs are sitting at the counter with a tea bag in each because they both like starting out with just a little bit of caffeine. The kettle clicks, and Darren turns around from the sink where he just finished washing up. He's got on Chris's sweats even though it's puddling around his feet and a t-shirt he probably grabbed off the chair in their room. He's reaching for the kettle when his eyes meet Chris's, and his smile is so wide that Chris's heart stutters.

"Morning, sunshine."

He feels his cheeks flush and simultaneously curses and marvels at Darren for being able to make him react this way still.

"Morning. You made breakfast?"

They're both usually too busy to take the time to cook and eat together in the morning. Sometimes, Darren leaves a plate of whatever he's cooked in the toaster oven and sends a text to Chris about it before heading out, but he usually just makes a bowl of cereal and leaves a notes in the fridge saying sorry for using the rest of the milk.

"Yeah, had to make something for a best-selling author on his big day." His eyes are twinkling, and his smile is so soft in the early morning light.

"You spoil me."

"Anything for my favourite," he teases back.

He pours water into the mugs and hands Chris his mug.

"C'mon, let's eat. Can't make you late."

They take a seat at the table, and Chris stabs at the omelette with his fork. It's fluffy and steaming as he bites into it, and he lets out a moan at how good it is.

He looks up to see Darren's knowing smirk and kicks at his legs.

"Shuddup," he muffles out with a full mouth.

"I didn't say anything!" He uses his legs to trap Chris's feet and tangles them together.

Chris swallows. "No, but you thought it."

"I did no such thing, Colfer." His hand is on his chest in mock horror, but his growing smile gives it away.

They continue to eat in silence with the only sounds being the clinking of forks on plates and the city around them waking up. Their legs are still tangled up under the table with one of Darren's feet sliding up and down his calf. When they're finished, they sip their tea and Chris takes a moment to look at Darren.

The bags under his eyes are a little darker, and his eyes are a little red from the lack of sleep. His hair is shorter than Chris would like, and his face is less full, but then Darren's eyes meet his, and they're like liquid gold and the most beautiful thing Chris has ever seen. He smiles against his mug and closes his eyes.

They'll leave separately in the next hour and go off to do different things. He probably won't see Darren for the rest of the day, won't hear from him except for little texts throughout the day when he can manage them. They'll slide into bed together tonight before they go their own ways. But in this moment, the morning is theirs, and everything feels right.


End file.
